Turns out after a little investigation that the first year was 2006, 9 years ago. I did a lot of scrapbooking back when my boy was little, and I just love looking back thru the albums...Not-So-Little PurpleBoots was indeed a Little PurpleBoots back then. Good grief, how he's grown. How they've all grown! Katie is in her first year at university, Cam started high school and Ben is in his last year of junior high. Time flies!
Anyway, back to 2015. I took my wee quilt with me in hopes that a photo opportunity might work in to the event, but after all these years of practice, we've got this tree chopping gig down to a science and we were in and outta there in record time. I did manage to nab just one shot, but the wind blew my perfectly draped quilt off it's corner perch just as I pushed the button.
For the first time in Clevey history (*that's Levy + Cleveland reduced) we've got a pine tree. A very tiny pine tree. In fact it's not even as tall as the book case by which it stands. The teeny weeny pine tree is adorable and the boy loved it at first sight but it isn't without its issues. The branches are rather flimsy, the trunk twisted and gaping holes have appeared that weren't exactly noticed when he saw it standing proudly at the edge of the lot, shining like a beacon of Christmas joy, begging to be the chosen one.
I suppose a mother should be more conservative in handing her son the saw with permission to cut whatever tree makes him happy...especially when the challenge of decorating is left to her. I didn't manage to get many ornaments to stay put on its limbs but all the special ones are there and the weight of the star is attempting to push the weak spine of the tree top into downward dog position, a position that seems more possible with each passing day.
It's is fair to say that this pueny pine certainly gave me a run for my money, all $13 of it. Yup. You read that right. 13 bucks. That's all we pay for our annual Christmas conifer. Seems such a pidly amount when one considers the enormous role of the tree in the making of a family Christmas, doesn't it?